Remembering Holly
by Carlier36
Summary: A job goes tragically wrong; can the team stay together minus one of their own? Death!fic


A/N: Okay, first of all, I do not write death!fic. Ever. Unless it's the Narniaverse where they come back somewhere else... Yeah, anyway. I got this idea for a heartbreaking little scene with Parker and Eliot and that's all it was supposed to be. It escalated into this. *hands out tissues*  
Disclaimer: I do not own Leverage nor am I associated with Dean Devlin, Beth Riesgraf or Christian Kane.

**Remembering Holly**

It was unlike the Leverage team to be caught so off guard. Typically, Nate had plans from A to Z and they often used up every last idea. It was tense times like this one that reminded them all how much Nate's neurosis kept them alive from day to day.

The shot rang in all their ears like a severe case of tinnitus. Several long milliseconds passed before the sound registered.

"Parker, what's going on?" "Parker!" "Are you all right?" "Who fired that?" Voices in varying stages of panic invaded the fog filling her mind.

The blond swallowed hard over the lump in her throat, gasping for air. "I-I- Oh shiny tomato."

Eliot exchanged glances with the others, scratching his forehead nervously. "She only cusses like that when she's in a whole hell of a lotta pain," Hardison half-joked, not wanting to think the worst.

"Parker?" Sophie said slowly, leaning heavily on the edge of the desk. "Tell us what's going on."

"They- they got away. When I fell. After the shot, I mean." Parker's voice was ragged and breathy.

"That's all right. We'll take care of them. You just worry about you," Nate piped up as he stared at the ceiling.

Eliot folded his arms over his chest, thinking for the hundredth time it was a bad idea to send Parker out alone on this one after all the trouble they'd had. "Where are you hit?" he asked softly, afraid to know.

"Sto-mach. Left side," she rasped out.

"Shit. I'm on my way." Eliot grabbed his phone off the desk, pulling up GPS even as he headed for the door.

"Eliot! Eliot, no. My car is down in the parking garage; we're all going to go and we're going to stay calm about this," Nate reprimanded him, his voice shaky despite his words.

"I'm not going to loose her waiting for the damn guy at the garage to find his hearing aid," Eliot shot back, not pausing in his route to the door.

---

Parker's breathing was getting heavier by the minute and though Sophie was still murmuring soothing nonsense in the background, hoping to keep her calm, Eliot was on the verge of violence. He could almost hear Parker telling him he was _always_ on the verge of violence and it only made the traffic seem that much more claustrophobic. Eliot slammed his fist against the steering wheel, sending a horn blast over the smoggy, noisy city. He pulled out and around a line of fancy BMWs and Mercedes-Benz, parked the car in the middle of the lane, undid his seatbelt, got out and started run. Horns sounded all around him and a few choice gestures were sent his way but Eliot heard and saw none of it. Size nine feet pounded against the sidewalk for four blocks. Eliot swung into the apartment building behind a resident and jogged down the hall before the graying woman could stop him.

"All right, Parker, where are you? What number?" he asked, pressing the earbud against his ear better.

"210. Third floor."

"Of course." Eliot punched the elevator button, his internal clock feeling at about hour 13. He was out of the elevator as soon as the doors inched open, flying down the hall. 206, 207, 208, 209… 210. Eliot didn't have the satisfaction of busting the door in, as it was already swinging off its hinges. He vaulted himself around the obstacle and skidded to a stop on the carpeted entry.

Parker lay in the middle of the empty living room, legs curled beneath her and one hand pressed to her side. The carpet around her was a sickly red. She tilted her head towards him, her eyes glazed. "Hey," she rasped.

Eliot stooped to his knees beside her, pushing matted hair from her face. His fingers detected a fever in her cheeks and he grit his teeth. "Hey," he murmured, "Everything's going to be okay." Reaching for her hand, he gently pried it away from the wound. "Let me see it, Parker."

She released her grip, wincing as the fabric of her shirt stuck to her sticky hand. Sweat trickled into her eyes. "Holy shit," Eliot cursed, examining the hole.

"What? What is it? Is it that bad?" Hardison's voice clamored in their ears.

"Tell me you've already called the ambulance."

"Got you on GPS."

"Then shut up," Eliot growled.

Parker smiled slightly, biting her lip. "You shouldn't be so hard on him, you know. He's a good guy."

"And you're bleeding. So you shut up too," Eliot snapped back and then sighed, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, "I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you." Gently, he slid his hands under her back and lifted her so her head rested on his knee. He cradled her with one arm, pressing the other hand against her side.

Parker cried out at the pressure, gripping his arm. "I know, I know, shh," he whispered, stroking her hair. "The ambulance will be here soon." Eliot dipped his head so their foreheads touched. "You're gonna be okay."

Her breathing was heavy against his cheek. "I'm not so sure about that." Her fingers knotted in his t-shirt.

Eliot swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut. "Don't talk like that. Everything's going to be just fine," he said again, just to convince himself. There was an awful lot of blood and she was in an awful lot of pain. He couldn't be sure, but he had a feeling that bullet had been in just the right place to nick all the wrong things. Parker's moan brought him out of his stupor.

"Eliot? Eliot, listen to me," she groaned, pressing a bloody hand to his face. "You can't let this upset the equilibrium."

"What?"

"You can't let this destroy the team. You have to keep them together. Think of all the good we've done, all the people we've helped. Don't let me tear that apart."

Eliot choked, holding her closer. "Nothing's going to happen to you."

"Don't let the Leverage team die with me. You promise me, Eliot! I will not be responsible for that. If you let them fall apart, I'll come back and haunt you, I swear it. I'll haunt you on creepy rooftops and in Serbia. Promise me you'll find some other token blond with almost as little common sense as me and make sure Nate uses the zipline someday," she ranted, stopping every few phrases to catch her breath.

He blinked the tears away from the corners of his eyes. "You're going to make sure he uses it. Come on, Parker, nobody else knows how to work the damn thing." He forced a grin but it came out more like a pained grimace.

"_Promise_ _me_," she insisted.

"Parker…" Eliot sighed shakily, "I promise. But I'm not gonna lose you. There is no way you're going to do this on my watch."

Her fingernails dug into his arm as she pulled herself a few inches closer to him. "I always thought I'd go out with a bang. Zipline'd break or something, you know?" She hissed and he adjusted so she could balance herself in his embrace, his eyes boring into hers. Without thinking, there was no time for that, he settled a sweet kiss on the tip of her nose, the way he always used to with Aimee. "But, then, maybe this isn't so boring, either," Parker added with a playful grin, shutting her eyes.

"No, no, you're not-"

"Eliot. Stop," she cut him off, eyes still closed, "Don't tell me I'm going to be okay when we both know the last thing I'm going to see are your too-blue eyes."

Eliot made a face at the comment. "At least I didn't stab her with a fork," he countered, "And you are going to be okay. I'm lookin' out for you. I'm _right here_."

"I know." Parker's breathing was becoming more and more labored by the minute and she bit her lip. Bowing her head against his chest, she murmured heavily, "I- I've always been able to- count on you, Eliot."

Stubbornly, Eliot shook his head. "You'll always be able to."

She brushed her lips across the stubble on his chin and, so low he almost missed it, whispered, "Thank you."

"No! Parker, no!" A tear slipped down his cheek. "Parker… Parker… no…Oh God…" He clutched her to him, oblivious to the choking sobs between her name.

The rest of the team and the paramedics arrived only minutes later. Sophie gave a strangled cry and immediately buried her face in Nate's chest. Hardison sunk onto a box in the corner of the room, eyes wide and shock-filled. It took all four paramedics to pry Eliot away from Parker and, when they did, he left, saying he'd seen her die, he didn't need to see her tossed namelessly in a body bag.

They didn't see him over the following week but for a few stops in at the office. He always looked defensive and angry and none of them asked any questions. Which was why Nate was so surprised when Eliot dropped in around midnight the early, early morning of Parker's funeral.

Seeing Nate at the conference room table, he raised his hands and backed from the room, "Sorry. I'll come back later."

"No, no! Eliot, wait! Come here. I want talk to you," Nate stopped him, taking his glasses off.

Reluctantly, Eliot pulled out a chair several over from his boss and sat down. "What?"

"Are you coming to the funeral?" Nate asked quietly, looking at his folded hands.

Eliot's answer was quick, sharp and to the point. "No. Anything else?"

"Why not?"

His tongue darted across his dry lips. "Because it's going to hurt worse when no one shows up than it would to just not accept the fact that she's dead."

Nate nodded knowingly. "You don't want closure?"

"I want Parker back. And since that's not going to happen. I'm going to kill the bastard who took her away from me." Eliot stood, turning his back on Nate, but the older man shot out a hand and caught him by the wrist.

"Just let me say something before you go."

---

Eliot straightened his tie nervously as he stepped into the Church of St. Nicholas. Sophie and Nate had thought it appropriate, all things considered. As he passed the statue at the back of the church, Eliot smirked, Parker's voice sounding in his head. How many times had she insisted this was the Church of Santa Claus?

To his surprise, there was a smattering of people in the pews besides the leverage team, all looking somber and morose. Hardison raised a hand in his direction from the first row and Eliot made his way over to them.

As he slid in beside her, Sophie reached for his hand. "I'm glad you came," she murmured. Eliot only squeezed her hand as he kissed her cheek.

Father Paul gave a brief (edited) account of how 'Holly Linden' had helped save his church in its time of need. Leaning over Sophie to Nate, Eliot asked where the name had come from.

"It's her real name," Nate answered.

"I found it on some records from when she was in the system," Hardison explained.

Nate said a few words and then a handful of the others took the stand. Stories were shared from Parker's childhood by apparently the only good foster parents she ever had. An Irish man told of the three years she had spent in his country and how deeply in love with her he had fallen. A tall, redhead in pumps and a tailored suit explained how she gave Parker her first real job as a seamstress, much to the amusement of the less-than-lawful members of the congregation who had known Parker in her crazy form.

"Where did these people _come_ from?" Eliot asked, feeling foolish that he hadn't been around in a week.

Sophie shrugged, dabbing at her cheeks with a handkerchief. "They just came out of the woodwork when I sent in the obituary."

Father Paul took the podium once more, asking if anyone else would like to say something. Slowly, Eliot rose out of his seat and walked to the front of the room, nodding to the priest. Eliot ran his fingers through his hair, letting a sigh out.

"I-" Eliot stopped, his throat already closing around words. He pushed his thumb and forefinger against his eyes, steadying himself. Finally, he started again. "I didn't know 'Holly Linden.' But I knew Parker pretty well. In fact, I loved her. Unfortunately, I didn't know it until eight days ago, when she died in my arms." A murmur ran through the small crowd. "I wasn't planning on coming to this. I didn't want it to be real. All I wanted was to track down the miserable snit that took Parker out of all our lives and wring his neck. But about…" Eliot glanced at his watch, "…13 hours ago, a good friend of mine, and I would take the liberty to say, a good friend of Parker's, sat me down and talked some sense into me. Nathan asked me to think about what Parker would say to me. What she would want. When I quipped that she would want to tag along and get in a few roundhouse kicks, he smiled. And then he said, 'But first she'd want to rob him blind.' It took me almost 12 hours to figure out what he meant. He couldn't have meant it literally, although I'm sure Parker wouldn't have found the idea an unappealing one. An hour ago it hit me. See, Parker could beat the crap out of someone when she needed to. That tiny little woman was capable of a lot of damage. However, she wasn't a violent person by nature. She preferred to make things last, make them stick. You didn't want to get on her bad side. Let me back up a bit. While Parker was lying bleeding to d-death in my arms in an almost empty apartment she didn't own, she made me promise her something. She made me promise that I and a close group of friends would stick together without her. She made me swear we would go on doing good and helping people like Father Paul here. I could go out, find the creep and get it over with, but it's not really about him. It's about everybody like him. It's about the fact that Parker was capable of one hell of a right hook but she had just as much caring stored up in her. She genuinely liked helping people. If I tracked down that one guy, it would almost certainly tear our makeshift family to shreds and we would never stop anybody else again. And, besides, Parker swore if I didn't keep us together, she'd haunt me on creepy rooftops," Eliot ended with a small smile, knowing anyone who knew Parker would understand the joke.

It was a long time before someone took Parker's place on the team, and she was never really replaced. Eliot fell for the cool-headed Southern girl who loved horses and whatever he cooked and could disarm him in 14 seconds. But he never forgot the crazy blond who stole his heart without his ever knowing it.


End file.
